


In The Small Hours

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Injury, Memories, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soldiers, Trapped, Trust, Video & Computer Games, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Hana finds herself waking from nightmares and wandering the base late at night, playing games to distract herself from memories she can't escape. She's always dealt with them alone, but perhaps she doesn't need to...perhaps there is someone who understands what she's going through.





	In The Small Hours

_The world was slowly coming back into focus around here, a strange landscape of shadows illuminated by the weak light from the emergency power in her mech. It’s the only power that’s working right now and it’s not enough, the shadows pressing in on her, and the lights flicker worryingly when she jostles the controllers, trying to get the Mech to move. The movement leaves her gasping for breath, pain lancing through her side and drawing her attention down to the dampness seeping through her jumpsuit, a sensation that she had desperately been trying to ignore. Unable to ignore it anymore she reached down with trembling fingers, whimpering when she brushes against the shard of metal that is protruding from her side. Foolishly she tries to see if it will move, her vision whiting out for a moment as she snatches her fingers away, trying to ride out the agony. She can’t bring herself to look at her fingers, wiping them against her jumpsuit and trying not to imagine how she must be smearing…her blood…all over herself, instead closing her eyes and just trying to focus on breathing through it._

_This wasn’t what she had imagined when she had decided to fight. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. The mission had been rated as the lowest risk they had, at best she had hoped for a quick skirmish and even that had been declared unlikely by her commander, and a bitter laugh welled up as she let her head fall back against the headrest. Low risk. She laughed again and then coughed, it had been a trap. The Omnics had known that they were coming, and they had been ready for them. She’d seen at least half of the squad going down before her own Mech had been caught and sent into a tailspin, her stomach rolling as she remembered spinning through the air until she had crashed through the side of a building._

_They must’ve hit something critical when they crashed, because it seemed to have come down around them, although she couldn’t remember that happening, her eyes beginning to sting as she forced them open once more. They had been in the occupied zone when the ambush had happened, which meant that there could be civilians trapped with her. It’s a terrifying thought but it gives her something to focus on, something that isn’t the way her Mech’s power is continuing to fade, or the chill seeping through her limbs and after a couple of attempts she manages to get her voice to work._

_“Hello!” It’s weak, fragile. It’s the voice of a girl not a soldier and she grimaced at the sound, eyes flickering to the insignia on the dashboard. There had been so many voices raised against her career choice, so many doubts, but she had done. She had got here, joined MEKA, and she couldn’t let it all end here. “HELLO!” Her voice still sounded small in the silence, but its steadier at least and just having the silence broken boosts her spirit for a moment. “Hello? IS ANYONE THERE?” She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if someone answers her, she can’t move, but at least she wouldn’t be alone. “HELLO!”_

_She doesn’t know how long she’s been shouting for, but eventually her voice fails her, throat sore from shouting so much. The world is silent around her apart from the odd sound of the rubble settling further into place, and her breath catches as it dawns on her fully for the first time that she’s buried in rubble, that she’s trapped and she’s alone.  She’s breathing harder now, fear settling in unabated. She’s scared. For the first time since she’s joined the army she’s honestly terrified. Terrified that everything is going to end in this broken shell of a Mech, blood pooling beneath her. Alone._

_She’s terrified that she’s going to die…_

    Hana woke with a gasp, her chest heaving as she sucked in air, eyes wild as she glanced around. It had been so real, so vivid…too real…too reminiscent of that time trapped beneath the rubble, and even though she can breathe, the air around her fresh and accessible, but it’s not enough to calm her. Even the realisation that she’s safely in the room at the watchpoint, surrounded by her own belongings, completely safe. It’s not enough to quell the panic, the terror of being trapped again. The room is too small, large by army standards, but too small with the memory of being buried under the rubble fresh in her mind, and her movements are frantic, clumsy as she shoves the covers away and slips out of bed.

    The floor beneath her feet is cold, the heating still coming and going, and she makes a note to talk to Winston about it, but later. For now, though the discomfort is grounding, because it’s real and separate from the memory of her first mission. It’s part of the reason why she doesn’t waste time rooting around for her slippers before she all but bolts from the rooms, not entirely sure where she’s going, especially at this time of night, but just needing to get away. It won’t help. Deep down she knows that, it never does, but it doesn’t stop her from practically sprinting down the corridors, relieved that there doesn’t seem to be anyone around to witness her meltdown, even as part of her longs for company. Longs for someone who can understand the panic gripping her and the fear churning in her chest, the emotions that overwhelming even though she knows that it’s just a memory, even though she knows that the base is one of the safest places to be with Athena watching out for them.

**

    She’s done several laps of the base; her feet numb from the cold and shivers wracking her body by the time she finds herself taking the familiar path down to the old mess hall that had been converted into a recreation room. It’s one of her favourite haunts, a place that she had played a large part in creating, a place that had let her feel that she’d made her mark on the base, that makes her feel like she belongs here, and it’s also a place that so far, they’ve managed to keep untouched by the reality of the war around them. It’s become an unspoken rule that no one is to talk about missions, injuries or fears whilst they were in the room, and stepping in their now, taking in the striking artwork that Lucio had covered the far wall with and the mismatched, yet homely furniture they’d all contributed to the room, feels like coming home. And for the first time since waking up she feels as though she can breathe easily.

    It’s always the same. She’s lost count of the number of nights that she’s spent in this room. Sometimes deliberately pulling all-nighters to unwind or to stream to her followers, but more often than not retreating down here when nightmares and memories had driven her from her bed, or when staring at the ceiling of her room had become too much.

     Taking a deep breath, she heads for the main couch, relieved to sink down onto it and draw her feet it up off the chilly floor, sinking back against the large cushions that had been Ana’s contribution to the room, the older woman refusing to be uncomfortable even if she had to sit through the often-dubious entertainment choices of the others. Right now, Hana had to admit that she was right, it was better to be comfortable, and she sighed as she felt herself beginning to settle and feel safe once more.

“Athena, screen on please,” she called a few minutes later, pleased when the AI obeyed without question or comment. In the early days, the strangely mother-like AI had often chided her for being up so late, always trying to convince her to go back to bed and arguing until Hana was forced to put her foot down. However, that had all changed after Athena had borne witness to the panic that had claimed her after she had woken from a nightmare after falling asleep in here one night, alarmed by the readouts she had measured coming from the girl, and after that the arguments had slowly faded before stopping all together. Now, the large screen flickered to life in front of her, the menu coming up and Hana can’t help but smile when she sees that Athena has brought up the links to the various gaming systems that she and Lucio have installed, waiting on her decision.  Hana hesitates for a moment, trying to work out what she feels like tonight even as she reaches for one of the controllers lying abandoned on the arm of the couch by whoever had been playing earlier. “Mario Kart please.” It’s ancient now and ridiculously easy to play after spending so long piloting Mechs, but its bright and colourful and has nothing do with war or fighting and right now that’s just what she needs.

**

    She’s halfway through her ninth race when there’s a noise from the hallway, and she immediately freezes, hitting pause and automatically reaching for where her gun would usually be, a choked noise escaping when she remembers where she is and that she’s unarmed. Logically she knows that she’s safe, but there’s still part of her that’s on edge and she hunkers in on herself, only to pause when Soldier 76 stumbles into view, feeling along the wall and she can’t stop the soft, huff of relief she makes at the sight of him. The noise as small as it is, is enough to have him tensing, wariness washing over his features as he glances around, milky eyes moving past her as he growls out. “Who’s there?” She must be more stressed than she’d thought as it takes a moment for her brain to catch up with what’s happening, eyes widening as she realises that he hasn’t got his visor, and she hurries to reply when she sees the tension in his body increasing as the silence stretches on.

“It’s Hana,” she replies as she rises to her feet, deliberately making her movements loud enough to hear as she moves across to him, relieved when he relaxes a little at the familiar voice. “Where’s your visor?” She demands as she reaches his side, feeling him flinch when she reaches out to take his arm.

“On my bedside table,” he mutters, taking a deep breath before relaxing and allowing her to tug him forward, and she falters for a moment, startled that he’s trusting her to guide him across the room. Sure, they’ve talked and hung out before, fought together, been laid up in the infirmary together but somehow this feels different, and she hastily pulls herself together when he tilts his head in confusion at the hesitation.

“You don’t usually forget it.” It’s true, she can count on one hand the number of times she’s seen him without the visor, and she can’t stop her gaze from darting to his face, taking in the scars and the haunted expression that never seems to leave his face, even now when they’re making in progress. He tenses at her words, stiffening under her hand and she nudges him down onto the couch, wondering if she’s just touched on something that she shouldn’t have, which seems to be nearly everything when it comes to him. “Morrison?”

“I was in a hurry…” She halts at his words, remembering the panic, the urgency that had sent her fleeing from her room not long before, and she worries at her bottom lip, wondering if she has the right to ask...if she should ask…after all they’re not that close. They respect each other as soldiers, but this is different and she’s about to leave it be when his expression darkens, and she watches as his hand slips down to his stomach, ad though he’s checking that he’s still one piece. It’s an action that she’s all too familiar with and before she knows what she’s doing she’s reached down and grasped the searching hand, pulling it away.

“You’re safe.” It was what she always wanted to be told when she woke from her nightmares, and she knows that she’s hit the nail on the head when he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his face and cautiously she settles beside him, still holding his hand as she repeats. “You’re safe.” He’s gripping her hand too now, his hold just bordering on painful, but she makes no attempt to escape, because she knows exactly what he’s going through right now.

“You know…”

     It’s not a question and she doesn’t reply. Despite her earlier thoughts about wanting someone to talk to, she’s not quite ready to open up, even as warmth creeps through her at the realisation that he would probably understand, and that he would probably be willing to listen. For now, though, he seems to be gradually relaxing and as much as she wants to pry, to learn just how similar their nightmares and memories are, she senses that he doesn’t want to share and she’s not about to push. Instead she lets the silence, not quite comfortable, but certainly not awkward linger for a few more minutes before squeezing his fingers gently once more and releasing him.

“I was playing a game if you want to join me,” she offers, adding with a soft laugh. “No streaming this time, I promise.” He had been less than impressed when they’d tricked him into joining in with a stream a few months ago, and he had taken to avoiding the room like the plague when there was the slightest chance he might be caught out again. She still expects him to refuse even with that promise, because whilst he will come and sit with them occasionally, there’s always a wall between him and the rest of them, even with those he had served with before the fall and she’s stunned when after a moment he nods, before gesturing at his eyes.

“Okay, although….”

      _Of course._ It’s strange to be reminded that the visor serves as more than a weapon to be used in battle, because whenever they’re in the field he never hesitates, never acts as though he’s having to rely on the visor and the nanites to just to see let alone aim. She bites her lip, wishing that she had thought of that before asking him to join her, hesitating before offering tentatively.

“I can go and get it for you, if you don’t mind?” As far as she knows only some of the old guard have ever been allowed into his room since he returned, and she knows just how important it is to have somewhere to retreat to, somewhere where no one else can go without permission and she’s not about to violate that. He scowls for a moment, visibly hesitating and arguing with himself before he sighed and tilted is head towards her, fixing her with his eerie unseeing gaze, and she shivers even though she knows he can’t see her, or maybe because he can’t.

“Are you sure? I’m interrupting your gaming time.” In the past he’s scolded her for spending so much time playing games and ‘rotting her mind’ as the old man in him had put it, but there’s a note of something else in his voice tonight. Understanding perhaps, as though he knows exactly why she’s up at this time of night and playing games on her own, without streaming, and she swallows caught of guard, her voice wobbling slightly as she replies.

“I’m sure.”

“Then, thank you.” She rises at the quiet permission, startled when he reaches out, managing to grasp her wrist and tug it lightly, scowling at a point just past her ear. “And get your slippers and a jumper or something whilst you’re about it.”

“How did…?”

“You’re shivering,” he points out answering the unfinished question, wiggling his fingers which are still wrapped around her wrist before letting go and tilting his head towards the ground. “And bare feet sound different than shoes on these floors.”

“Oh.” She’d never really thought about how he must have learnt to see the world in different ways to the rest of them, and she wonders what else he sees and hears that the rest of them would miss. However, she finds herself focusing more on just how dad-like he had sounded a moment ago, and she coughs awkwardly, trying to fight back an odd, pleased smile before hurrying towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”

**

     It doesn’t take her long to return, she hadn’t lingered in his room not wanting to abuse the trust he had shown her and highly aware that he was waiting for her. As she makes her way back to the room she has to admit that she does feel better now that she’s got her slippers on and now she’s drowning in folds of the ridiculously big hoodie that Mei had given her for Christmas that year. She remembers to make a little bit of extra noise as she slips back into the recreation room, wincing when he still flinches despite her efforts, although he seems to realise who it is almost at once a murmured apology on the tip of his tongue. She waves off the apology, cautiously handing over the visor as soon as she reaches him, watching with curious eyes as he slips it into place, hearing the nanites as they come to life and the visor lights up, casting a soft, crimson glow over the room. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” He’s visibly relaxing now that he can see again, and she shudders, mind flashing back to her nightmare, and the memory of how the power in her Mech had died nearly four hours before she’d been found and rescued, leaving her in total darkness. Even now she struggled to sleep without a nightlight and the thought of being perpetually in darkness and relying on fragile technology to let her see made her stomach roll. Something of her thoughts must show in her expression because his face darkens, and she can see the concerned frown that forms as he studies her, and she glances away in a hurry.

“Are you ready to play?” _Please don’t ask…_ Apparently, he gets the message that she’s not ready to talk, because he shifts his gaze to the screen, eyebrows rising as he takes in what she was playing, and she huffs defensively when he chuckles even as she moves to sit beside him. “What?”

“Are you sure you want to play this?” There’s amusement in his voice, and when she glances at him she’s stunned to see the corner of his lips are quirked up in a half smile.

“Why?”

“This is one of the games that I used to play with G…” He catches himself, cutting the word off with a growl and she doesn’t comment. It’s no longer a secret who the Reaper really is, or who he’d been when Overwatch had been at its height, but there are rumours, whispered stories that he had been something more to the man in front of her. Stories that she’s inclined to believe as she studies the pained expression on his face, the smile long gone, and it’s a couple of minutes before he’s able to bring himself back under control and continue, voice tense and tight. “To unwind…I was pretty good.” The last bit is clearly an attempt to reintroduce some levity to the situation, and a challenge, on that she’s not about to ignore as she grabs a second controller and tosses it to him.

“Bring it on Morrison.”

“Jack.” The quiet response confuses her, making her pause in the middle of ending her previous game so that they can shift to two-player and he quirks an eyebrow at her. “I’m not going to be beaten by someone who doesn’t dare call me by my name.” It’s another challenge and she narrows her eyes at him, but she hesitates for a moment, she had been raised to respect her elders and there’s something unsettling about the thought of even attempting to level the playing field between them when they’re not out there fighting. However, she can see that he’s waiting and there’s something, a hint of wistfulness perhaps that stops her from refusing.

“Fine…Jack.” The name feels strange, but she hurries on before it can become awkward, smirking at him as she finishes setting up the game. “I hope you’re ready to lose.”

“Not on my watch.”

**

    He hadn’t been lying, he was good…ridiculously good for someone his age, and it’s a close-run competition with neither of them able to get the edge for more than one race. At any other time, it would have grated on her nerves, she was competitive at heart and to be honest still really wanted to be beat him and make him eat his words, but at the same time there was as rush from being so evenly matched, the feeling reinforcing the fact that she wasn’t alone. They’re not silent, exchanging gentle jibes and taunts, trying to distract each other enough to get the edge to let them win, but there’s nothing serious, no probing, just a comforting sense of companionship.

It doesn’t last.

     They’re nearly twenty races in when Jack coughs, drawing her attention enough to make her nod to show that she’s listening, although she’s not about to glance away from the screen when he’s busy trying to ram her off the racetrack.

“So,” he pauses, just long enough to dodge the red shell she had sent at him, before continuing in a strange, cautious voice that immediately has her tensing. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing up at this time of night, challenging an old man to an even older video game?”

“I…” Part of her wants to tell him, to have some who will probably understand listen to what had happened, to be able to share the burden, but the words won’t come as the memories threaten to bubble up again and she’s unable to do anything but shake her head. There’s a lump in her throat now, and she curses under her breath when her car goes flying off the side of the track a moment later.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Jack sounds so understanding, so patient, that she wants to cy. There had been so many people in the past who had wanted to know what was bothering, who had demanded answers even when she didn’t want to give them, who hadn’t had a clue just how hard it was for her to talk about those things. They had just wanted to hear about the glory, the victories, rather than the losses or the cost of those triumphs, both to herself and the others she fought with, and she finds herself blinking back tears at the fact that Jack isn’t like that, he understands, and its worse and better when he continues in a soft voice. “Sometimes silence is easier, but…if you do want to tell me, I’m willing to listen.” She doesn’t trust her voice at the moment and settles for nodding again, reaching up to swipe at her eyes even though it means she loses the race when his car zooms past hers at the last minute. It doesn’t matter, not right now and they’re both quiet as the next race starts.

**

   It’s nearly half an hour later when Hana finally finds her voice again, her gaze never leaving the game, fingers white as she grips the controller hard enough to make it creak slightly. She tells him about the nightmares, both the one that she’d had that night and the others that keep her up at night. She tells him about that mission…her first mission…her voice trembling as she talked about the hours spent trapped under the rubble, about how she had shouted herself hoarse only to realise that she was lone, her voice growing quieter as she spoke about lying there as the power went out and plunged her into darkness. Her voice hitching at that point and she didn’t fight, or even through in a token protest when Jack quietly took the controller from her, pausing the game and setting them both aside. She didn’t look at him, but she did let him tug her closer, leaning against him as she burrowed deeper into her hoodie, trying to hide as she felt tears on her cheeks. She made no effort to try and wipe them away this time, instead letting them fall unhindered as she continued to speak in a soft, broken voice, unable to stop now that she’s started, the words tumbling out.

    She trembles as she tells him about how she had begun to slip whilst trapped, how she had lost hope in that dark space, beginning to sob in earnest when she tells him about the rescue, about how light had flooded her prison just as she had been ready to give up completely. His arm is warm and wonderfully solid around her shoulders, and right now it’s the only thing stopping her from falling apart as her voice drops to a whisper as she tells about waking in the hospital days later. About learning that most of her squad had perished in that ambush, and hearing just how many people, innocent civilians had been lost in an attack that wasn’t supposed to have happened. It’s when she gets to telling him about how she had wanted to give up after that, how she had nearly turned her back on the one thing she had fought so hard to achieve that she shatters, falling silent as she turns and buries her face against him. She’s too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed at letting him see this side of her, and she’s shaking now, trembling from the memories and shuddering under the force of her sobs which only intensify when Jack pulls her into a proper hug.

“He doesn’t mutter meaningless platitudes, he doesn’t urge her to stop or to calm down, he just holds her tightly and waits, letting her cry herself out. It means more than she could ever put into words, a weight that she hadn’t even been aware of lifting from her shoulders, and she feels like she can breathe more easily even as she struggles to calm herself, the sobs slowly petering out. It’s still a few minutes before she can speak again, her voice still choked with desperation. “I just want them to go away.” The memories, the nightmares, she just wished that she could forget it all and move on, be the Hana who hadn’t known what it felt like to come that close to death, to lose so many people.

“Unfortunately, they don’t or at least not completely,” Jack’s voice is soft, pained in a way that only someone who truly understands what’s she gone through can sound and its enough to get her to pull back, peering up at him with sore, red-rimmed eyes. “And as much as you…we…might wish them to, it might be better that they don’t. After all, without those memories and experiences, who would we be? Would you still be the Hana Song that’s sat in front of me? Would you still be D.va?”

“But…”

“It gets easier,” Jack reassures her softly, cutting across the half-formed protest. “With enough time, with age and with experience. Maybe it’s just because I’ve seen more, endured more that I can deal with it easier, or maybe I’ve just become a little numb to it.” That’s a lie, she can see it in his pained expression and in the way his hand, the one that she can see at any rate is curling into a fist, knuckles turning white and this time she’s the one to reach out, cautiously brushing her fingers against his knuckles, just enough to draw him out whatever memories are darkening his thoughts. It takes a moment but eventually he sighs, lips quirking faintly at her before he pulls away. “But it does get easier, especially when you’re not alone.”

“People asked me about it, back when it first happened, but…”

“They didn’t understand.” Jack finishes for her and she nods, unsurprised that he understands, but startled when he nudges her so that she looks up and meets the crimson gaze of his visor. “I’m not much, especially these days. But I am willing to listen, if you want me to. Tonight, or any night…I don’t sleep well anymore.”

“Thank you.” It’s all she can say and yet it doesn’t feel enough, not after he’s helped to ease the weight on her shoulders and the burden of the memories that she hadn’t been able to share for so long, and she hesitates. She wants to o more, needs to do more, to thank him for the precious gift he’s given her, and she gathers the courage to lean forward, catching his attention once more. “Can I ask why you were up tonight?” She half expects him not to answer, after all they’re still more strangers than anything else despite the new understanding between them, and she’s seen him brush off his old friends often enough to know that he doesn’t like talking about the past or anything that’s no the job. Hell, he’s probably said more to her tonight than he has to anyone for a long time, and so she jumps slightly when he replies, voice gruff.

“Nightmares.” If she’d had any lingering doubts about whether he really understood what she had gone through and what had driven her from her bed, they disappeared with that word and the haunted expression that had crept onto his face. She knew that expression, she’s seen it in the mirror on far too many lonely nights and she swallowed thickly, wondering just how much worse it had been for him before he’d answered the recall, back when he had been on his own with nothing to distract him from his thoughts. “Of the fall, of Zurich… I-I can’t talk about the rest, it’s not my story to share. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologise.” She doesn’t need to hear all the details, she knows better than most that there are somethings that people can’t share, her mind flashing to the photo that she keeps tucked in the cockpit of her current Mech…there are some people that can’t be spoken about.

    Silence settles over them once more, even more comfortable than before and it dawns on Hana that for the first time in forever she feels completely safe, as though in this room, this silence, the past can no longer touch her. It’s a feeling that she’d begun to think she might never feel again, and there’s a slight tremor in her hands when she finally reaches out to retrieve their controllers, not hesitating this time as she holds Jack’s out to him with a shaky smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to sleep again just yet and besides… I still have to kick your ass.” She knows that she’s got it right when he smiles, just as shakily, but warm and honest all the same as he accepts the controller.

“Never going to happen.”

**

   They play through until the early hours of the morning, until eventually exhaustion and the comforting feeling of no longer being alone overwhelms them and they fall asleep leaning against one another, controllers lying abandoned between them. It’s nearly five in the morning when Athena turns off the gaming system and television, increasing the heating in the room and dimming the light, and it’s a couple of hours later that Ana discovers them, still fast asleep but looking more peaceful than they have in a long time. And when they wake midmorning it’s to find that she had covered them both with a blanket and placed a note on the door, promising dire consequences for anyone that disturbs terms. Although apparently it hadn’t stopped her from taking a couple of pictures to mark the occasion, something they learn about later when she uses them to blackmail Jack when he’s being particularly stubborn.

    Nothing is said about it amongst the rest of the team, at least not beyond Lucio and Junkrat bemoaning the fact that the pair have crushed every single record in Mario Kart, and the silence holds, even when it becomes a more frequent occurrence. Sometimes it is just by chance, one of them waking from nightmares or abandoning their efforts to sleep and taking refuge in the recreation room, the other joining them later if they wake up too. Other times it’s planned, a whispered agreement to meet after a particularly bad mission that has stirred up memories that are better left undisturbed, and other times they seek the other out, cautiously at first, but later with greater confidence as their friendship deepens and it helps. Each of those nights, whether spent in silence or conversation, playing games or just sat their talking, helps to ease the burden just a little bit more.


End file.
